God Of football

Chapter 230: Teammates Admiration

The city had a different energy when he wasn’t rushing to training or school—shops setting up, people going about their day, the smell of fresh pastries drifting from a nearby café.

He wandered aimlessly, weaving through narrow streets and occasionally stopping to glance at shop windows.

Nobody seemed to notice him, which was exactly what he wanted.

But after about an hour of walking, the feeling of excitement wore off. He had roamed the streets, breathed in the fresh air, and still—when he got home and checked the time—it was barely past noon.

Letting out a groan, he flopped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.

”This day is never going to end, is it?”

...…..

Lying on the couch, Izan drummed his fingers against his stomach, staring at the ceiling. The silence of the apartment was getting to him.

If he stayed here any longer, he was going to lose his mind.

Just as he considered playing another round of games, his phone buzzed. Pietro’s name flashed on the screen.

Pietro: Yo, you free?

Izan exhaled, relieved to have something to do.

Izan: Yeah, what’s up?

Pietro: Come out. I’m bored, and you look like you need to touch grass.

Izan smirked. This guy. Pietro sometimes had a way of making things sound like he was doing Izan a favor.

He wasn’t wrong, though. Within minutes, Izan grabbed his hoodie and cap again, heading out to meet his teammate.

They two met at a small plaza near the city center, where Pietro was already lounging on a bench, scrolling through his phone.

”Finally,” Pietro greeted, standing up. ”For a guy who sprints up and down a football pitch, you sure take your time walking.”

Izan rolled his eyes. ”You called me five minutes ago. And why are you talking like that”

Pietro just shrugged before walking away.

The duo spent the next hour wandering around, occasionally stopping to mess around with a ball Pietro had brought.

They found a quiet side street and passed it between them, showing off a few tricks, drawing amused looks from passersby.

”I should be resting,” Izan muttered after flicking the ball back to Pietro.

”You should, but you’d be bored out of your mind.”

”Fair point.”

Just then, Pietro’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and smirked before answering. ”Ava. What’s up?”

Izan raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was going. Pietro talked for a bit, nodding along, and when he hung up, he looked at Izan with a guilty grin.

”Bro code, right?” Pietro said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself.

Izan sighed. ”You’re ditching me.”

”It’s not ditching if I give you a heads-up.”

Izan crossed his arms. ”That’s exactly what ditching is.”

Pietro clapped him on the back. ”You’ll survive. Go do… whatever it is you do when you’re not carrying Valencia.”

Izan shook his head as Pietro jogged off. ”Unbelievable.”

With nowhere else to go, Izan decided to head back home. The house was still empty, which made him wonder when Komi and Hori would be back. He checked the time—still early evening.

Then, an idea hit him. He hadn’t done anything all day except wander around. Maybe he could at least surprise Komi by making dinner which he hadn’t done in a while.

Cooking wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but he had watched Komi enough times to pick up a few things. After searching the kitchen for ingredients, he settled on something simple—rice with a meat sauce.

The rice went fine. The sauce, however, was a different story. At some point, the seasoning felt off, and when he tried to adjust it, he realized he might have gone a bit overboard. Still, it looked decent when he plated everything.

Just as he finished cleaning up, the door opened, and Komi walked in first, followed by Hori.

The smell hit them immediately.

”You cooked?” Komi asked, a bit surprised.

Izan nodded, trying to look casual about it. ”Yeah. Figured I’d make something before you got home.”

Komi smiled, clearly touched. ”That’s sweet of you.”

Hori, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ”You cooked?”

”Yes.”

”And it’s edible?”

”Try it and find out.”

They all sat down to eat, and for a while, there was silence as they dug in. Komi nodded approvingly, but Hori…

”This is terrible,” Hori said bluntly.

Izan frowned. ”You’re literally on your second serving.”

”That doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Komi chuckled. ”Hori.”

”What? I’m just saying.” She took another bite. ”It’s bad, but I’m hungry.”

Izan shook his head, exasperated. ”Unbelievable.”

Despite her complaints, Hori finished her plate. Komi gave Izan an appreciative look. ”It really was a nice surprise. Thank you.”

Izan shrugged, but he couldn’t hide his small smile. At least the day hadn’t been a complete waste.

...

The next day passed without much excitement—at least for Izan. Training was still a day away, meaning he had another quiet day to himself.

He went through his usual recovery exercises, responding to messages from teammates and friends, but there was only one real topic dominating every conversation: the Copa del Rey final.

The shift in attention was undeniable. Every Spanish football outlet, every analyst, every fan discussion was centered around the upcoming clash between Valencia and Athletic Bilbao.

The final was only days away, and for Valencia, this was their biggest shot at silverware since they last won one in 2019.

On TV, sports programs dissected every possible angle of the match. Would Valencia’s recent form give them the edge?

Could they maintain their intensity after a brutal schedule? How would Bilbao, known for their resilience, respond to Valencia’s direct attacking play?

And of course, there was plenty of discussion about Izan—his recent performance against Barcelona had only solidified his reputation as one of the best young talents and big-game players, fueling the hype.

Even as he scrolled through social media, he couldn’t escape it. Fans were debating lineups, predicting results, and posting highlights from Valencia’s recent games.

His assist to Mark. His goal against Barcelona. The debates over whether he should start or if Baraja would keep him as a super-sub again.

At home, Komi and Hori had picked up on the tension in the air.

”This is the biggest final Valencia’s had in years,” Komi remarked over dinner. ”You must be feeling the pressure.”

Izan shook his head. ”Not really. At least, not yet.”

Hori leaned forward. ”You say that now, but wait until matchday. You’ll be feeling it then.”

She wasn’t wrong. The pressure, the expectations—it was only going to build as the final approached.

.....

As the staff at Paterna prepared for the day’s training, the atmosphere was bustling with activity.

The players had arrived early, eager to start their day, and made their way to the cafeteria. Baraja, standing by the coffee machine, greeted them with a focused but friendly demeanor.

As the players gathered in the cafeteria, the buzz of anticipation for training filled the air. Baraja stood near the counter, already sipping his coffee, while the players made their way in.

They all found their seats, but it was Pietro who quickly noticed something was off.

”Wait, hold up,” Pietro said, scanning the room. ”Where’s Izan?”

The players, already settling into their morning routine, glanced around, shrugging.

”He’s still at school,” Hugo replied with a grin, the usual calmness of Izan’s routine making his absence no surprise.

Pietro, however, raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair with a dramatic flair. ”Ah, right, school,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table like he was piecing together a mystery.

”How could I forget? The kid’s literally out there playing for Valencia, taking the world by storm… and he’s still somehow managing to top his classes. What’s his secret—does he have a personal tutor who’s also a time traveler?”

The table erupted in chuckles. Pietro flashed a grin, continuing with exaggerated theatrics but before he could continue, Correiratook over.

”I mean, is he hiding a cheat code for life? Like, ’press A to dominate football, press B to ace every test’? How does he do it?”

The players laughed harder, a few even slapping the table in agreement after Correira’s words.

”That’s what I mean. But, seriously,” Pietro resumed, pointing at the group. ”I’m over here struggling to finish a cup of coffee before training, and Izan’s probably already solved the world’s problems and is halfway through his next exam.

If this were a video game, he’d have unlocked the ’Superhuman’ mode by now.”

The players shared a few knowing nods, the playful banter blending with genuine admiration. Pietro leaned back, shaking his head.

”Honestly, though,” he said with a wink, ”I don’t know if I want to find out if he’s got some magic trick up his sleeve.

The kid’s got enough pressure without us making him a superhero. But hey, I wouldn’t mind a few tips myself!”

The lighthearted teasing continued, but everyone knew Pietro’s remarks came from a place of respect—though no one could quite figure out how Izan seemed to do it all so effortlessly.